


Diplomacy

by orphan_account



Category: Aladdin (1992), Mulan (1998)
Genre: Crossover, Disney, F/F, Female Characters, Female Protagonist, POV Female Character, POV Third Person, Past Tense, Porn Battle, Smut, Wordcount: 1.000-3.000, Wordcount: 1.000-5.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-03-28
Updated: 2008-03-28
Packaged: 2017-10-09 04:01:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/82843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account





	Diplomacy

Mulan prostrated herself before the king of this hot dry country, while her translator (the slim, dark and well-traveled Min) did the talking. She was dressed in full ceremonial attire, and even here in the palace, where there was shade, sweat trickled down her back, sweat stuck the cloth to her skin. She remained motionless.

'He tells you you may rise, honoured one,' said the translator, and Mulan did, keeping her eyes downcast.

'He begs you will look up,' whispered the translator.

She looked up. The king was short, round, and in his official state assumed an air of gravity and magnificence, but Mulan could see the crinkles around his eyes, and knew him instantly for a rather jolly sort - whatever that may mean in a foreign ruler, she could not yet tell. A huge tiger paced up and down behind his throne, sometimes emitting a low animal sound that went straight into the spine, and reminded Mulan just how easily those jaws could snap it. Things like this were why you did not look up.

The king spoke, long and florid, and after he had stopped, Min, somewhat blanched, told Mulan the gist of it.

An hour later, Mulan rose from a scented bath that was almost as warm as the air, but sweet and refreshing nonetheless. She shivered in the heat, because her mind would not stop circling around her task with a mix of dread and anticipation. She picked up a towel, but the servant women rushed forward with apologies and protests delivered with anxious downcast eyes, and she acquiesced to be dried and perfumed. Their fingers never touched her, but their drying was professional, and the perfume a strange sticky sweet aroma. They brought her clothes, of a sort - Mulan felt only a little less naked in them, but they were cool, and after all no man would ever see her in them. Her trepidation rose to her throat at the thought. She was led through a magnificent suite of rooms, opening out into a fresh green garden, until she arrived in a room with ornate pillows of all imaginable sizes, and a little table with a water keg and two glasses. She was told to wait.

The princess arrived within five minutes. Mulan tossed herself to the ground. She saw the princess's dark, soft-skinned feet in embroidered slippers walk to her, and then her knees as she knelt, and lifted Mulan up. She kept her eyes downcast, but that did mean that she saw what the princess was wearing, which was as little as Mulan, and that little made of gauze so fine she could see the darkness of her nipples underneath. She blushed, but steeled herself.

The princess lifted her chin, and Mulan looked into the deepest, loveliest eyes she'd ever seen, ringed with dark lashes. The princess was smiling, and then laughing.

The princess was to marry, but she was a virgin who had never known a man's touch. The king had seen Mulan ride in on a horse and in armour, on her emperor's mission, and decided she was man enough and yet not too much of a man to teach her daughter the arts of love before the wedding. It was wrong, but it was their way, and Mulan put her husband and her people's way out of her mind in order to do her ambassadorial duty.

She was surprised when the princess kissed her, by the softness of her lips as much as the simplicity of the act. It overtook her mouth, and she closed her eyes and kissed her back, feeling the aroused expectation that had begun in the bath as soon as the discomfort of the heat receded, feeling it enlarge, sharpen, and though she had no idea what she was doing, when the princess pulled away, she held on to her and pulled her back, kissing those lips, so soft and so gently parting, so wet between.

The princess giggled and kissed her again, and so they went for some time, each kiss lasting longer than the last, Mulan finding out the differences and similarities between these kisses and Shang's, until the excitement in the pit of her belly reached a pitch of pain, and she sighed, anxious for pleasure. The princess was breathing heavily now, and she took Mulan's hand and put it to her breast.

It was heavy, much larger than Mulan's. She gave it a gentle knead, and the princess's eyes darkened with pleasure. She did so again, rubbing gently, her other hand on the back of the princess's neck, moving in circles that made her shiver spasmodically. Mulan leaned in, and took the other nipple in her mouth, suckling it through the gauze. The princess moaned and pressed her head closer, her hips moving up in a silent request, and so Mulan's hand found that warm spot between her legs, pressed, and the princess stiffened, undulated, cried out. Mulan withdrew, breathing hard. The princess gave her a hungry look, and her fingers left Mulan's shoulders to undo her own trousers and slip them off her long brown legs. They were soft to the touch, and Mulan did touch them, running her hands along the princess's thighs and up until she reached the place between.

She rested her fingertips around the princess's opening, one on each side, feeling her spasm slightly at the touch, and looked up for permission. She received a nod, and dipped her finger inside the princess once, bringing it back coated with her juices. She flicked it then over the princess's pearl, and the dark beauty bent back with a moan, beautiful and animal under the sensation. Mulan moved her finger in circles, and the princess murmured and cursed and begged in her language. Fascinated, Mulan dipped her head and licked the hot wetness, just once.

The princess spasmed, tightened, came. She panted in the afterglow, dressed only in her gauze top and one shoe, the other somehow lost in their coupling, and her sheen of glowing sweat. In her foreign beauty she was the loveliest being Mulan had ever seen, and she dipped down to taste more of her salty sharp juice, and was surprised to see her flesh shiver in happy welcome. They were not done yet.

All afternoon she pleasured the princess, her own moisture running down her legs and mixing with sweat. She tried new things, and sometimes the princess did. Once the princess laid her back on a huge pillow, lifted her leg, and pressed her soft center against Mulan's. The pleasure pushed her over from silent want to need, and they rocked against each other through the silk of Mulan's trousers, Mulan's cries mixing with the princess's.

At last as evening came and the air cooled, they rested, wrapped up in each other's arms, Mulan feeling quite light-headed enough to doubt her ability to walk. The water keg had been emptied. As they drifted towards sleep, shivering in the chilly wind starting to blow through the windows, the veiled servant women returned, and Mulan was led, croggy and sleepy, to another bath. She was washed, the women being quite thorough and fearless with their touch this time, and dried, and led back to another room, much smaller and less grand, but still large enough for the Jade Emperor's ambassador. She slept like a log, and the following day the talks began.

She never saw Princess Jasmine again.


End file.
